


barbarism begins at home

by sade12



Category: We Need to Talk About Kevin - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Character Death, Psychological Trauma, Swearing, eva is sad and kevin is mean pmuch, family bsns, spoilers possibly?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 16:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9828083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sade12/pseuds/sade12
Summary: “Say you hate me,” he murmurs. “I need to hear it.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> attempting to ease back into writing with a movie that i haven't been this avidly interested in since 2011, please excuse me if it's ooc; i wanted to experiment with kevin and eva's relationship and see how much water this boat could hold  
> their relationship is really interesting to me and i wanna write about them WAAAY more  
> so here's a shortie but a sweetie about them! hope you like it aaaand thanks for kudos if you decide to give them <3 gee, thanks for reading in general hah

“Can I ask you something, Eva?”

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know, or maybe he does in some unintelligible way, how much weight every last word that comes forth from his mouth is able to produce. He can’t feel the weight of his words on her soul; but with the look in his eyes it’s clear he _wants_ to.

It’s his job to push boundaries to the limit. To get another crack on the head, to win the prize of another broken arm.

Somewhere, deep inside of her, she wishes her name could have been substituted by a placid ‘mom’.

Her eyes find themselves rooted to the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the table. When she doesn’t look up, it’s half because she feels no need, and half because eye contact with her son is a vehicle for flashbacks of that night.

“Yes, h-” She bites her tongue, once more remembering who she was about to call honey. “Yes.”

“Do you remember what I told you a while ago?”

The tapping sounds he makes, every flick of his wrist and maneuver of his arm, sound all too familiar. Uncomfortably so. “I don’t think I do. I’m sorry.” But with that the tapping stops, and is replaced by silence.

He scoffs. “TV.” 

One word, blunt. His voice is like static.

Reluctant eyes meet his, and they start another silent conversation- something specifically trademark of theirs, where they only speak through their eyes. Where Eva has nothing to say and Kevin can’t find it within himself to sympathize with her widowed life.

Silently, he revels to himself. The metal table which divides them is a physical manifestation of Eva’s love during Kevin’s eighteen years on Earth, it’d seem, as he scrapes and pulls at it from time to time. He tries to flick his fingernails at her. He makes direct eye contact and starts slapping his leg. He rocks back and forth. Everything within his current, weakened power to occupy her attention and make her as uncomfortable as possible.. She notices it all, every single visit, because she has to. It’s her job as a mother, as a caretaker, as a failure on his behalf. 

Her expression softens. She takes on her caring mother voice. “Well, I remember that. What about it?”

Despite their minutes slowly draining, Kevin goes quiet for a decent amount of time. His fingers circle the cool metal of the surface and he leans forward as much as his restraints will allow. 

“I wanted to know. Do you miss being on TV?”

A shiver runs through her. She swallows dryly. “No.”

“Why not?” He scratches the table.

“I don’t like the attention. You don’t like the attention, either..”

“Really?” His voice is cross, but his expression is concrete. He runs his tongue over his dry, cracked lips and squints. “You know a lot about me. Everything. You know what I ate yesterday, right? You know how long it’s been since I last took a piss?”

Not enough to push her, but enough to make her wince. Eva makes a disgusted, tutting sort of sound, which gains her an almost-grin from her son. 

She catches herself immediately for letting him see through a crack in her mental facade. Again with this.

Whenever they meet she merely becomes his plaything; to prod at with her insecurities, to mention his deceased father and sister, to share with her how much he puts out when he thinks of her. To disgust her, to win more at their game of back and forths though he knows nothing she could _ever_ do past this point would surpass his magnum opus at his high school. To keep them bound together forever; him having no future life and neither would she. To immortalize their _love._

“It’s not fun when it’s your life, right?” _Scrrrch-_ he digs his nail as well as he can into the table. “You’ve seen this happening in other people’s lives and now it’s happening in yours.”

That’s enough. Her tone escalates. “My life wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t for you.”

_“Well,”_ He mimics her volume; “When you’re dragged into the world kicking and screaming, you tend to want to go out the same way.” All five nails of his left hand sink into the table, pulling back rather intensely. One cracks audibly, and he stops.

From another corner of the room, an officer signals that their time together is up.

Once more, their eyes lock. Eva takes it all in; marks on his face, hastily done shaving of his head and she remembers his soft hair from his childhood. The shirts that just barely fit him now replaced by thick, unforgiving gray. And his eyes, still emotionless as ever, dealt by her own hand.

“I tried so hard to love you,” Eva whispers.

He says nothing. He runs his index finger over the scar on his arm and gives her a look.

“Say you hate me,” he murmurs. “I need to hear it.”

Though restrained, he tries to move his foot as close to her legs as he can, which causes her to practically eject herself out of her seat. No. Pushing herself upwards and collecting her bearings, Eva dusts off her skirt and looks down into dark, black eyes. “I don’t.”

“Conjugal loyalty,” he calls after her.


End file.
